“I’d expect this of you, Benjamin … ” Ben and I share a look. No one calls Ben ‘Benjamin’. “But my VP?Comeon.”
“Sorry, Priestley,” Ben says.
“Don’t apologize, just get back out there and mingle.”
I slide past Priestley, avoiding his glare as he stands in the doorway, practically blocking my escape. Most of the guys are leaning against walls, flirting with the sorority girls Priestley invited. I hardly ever see Priestley talking to girls at parties. I bet he has one of those ‘husband’ lists, but for girls. A long, very detailed list of qualities he’s looking for in a future wife. I wonder if any woman will ever tick them all off?
I slip into the kitchen before Priestley can grab me and introduce me to the heiress of a diamond mine or something. I’m about to make sure Priestley didn’t corner Ben when he slips into the kitchen and stuffs his hand into a bag of chips.
Archer slaps him on the back. “Where have you been?”
Ben and I share a glance. “Just talking to some people,” I lie.
Even though these guys are my brothers and we pledgedto look out for each other, I don’t want to admit to them all that I’ve been hiding from the party. Ben is different—I can trust him completely to keep things between us.
Archer slides a Solo cup across the counter to me. I frown, eying it.
“What’s in it?”
“Vodka.”
I pick up the cup, considering. I shouldn’t be drinking vodka at any of these mixers. A couple of beers to look social, as Priestley always reminds me. Nothing more. I’m a leader in this fraternity, I can’t be seen getting sloppy and drunk. Plus, Coach Sanchez has us on a strict nutrition plan.
Just as I’ve decided to decline, citing an early morning workout, Mira comes in from the garden with a couple of friends. She smiles at Mark and then her gaze finds me and turns guilty.
I take the drink and swig it, Archer and Miles cheering me on.
The next thing I know,we’re all chantingchug, chug, chugwhile Miles does a row of shots off the counter. Tears of laughter are streaming down my face by the time he gets to the last one.
Everyone is congratulating Miles for his feat when I spot Priestley making his way through the people mingling in the main room. I grab Ben by the arm, ushering the guys out of the kitchen before Priestley can reach us.
We slip out the back door, all snickering like schoolboys hiding from our moms. A slight chill in the air bites at our exposed arms and faces as we make our way across the soggy grass to the clubhouse inthe garden.
The dilapidating shack stinks of weed and sweaty socks, but it’s away from Priestley and that’s the main thing.
I lean against the wall and sip my vodka while the guys talk about girls.
What would Evan make of this scene? A bunch of frat boys getting drunk, talking about sorority girls.Ever since Mom called to let me know Joe had died, thoughts of Evan have been creeping in every now and then. Just when I thought I’d expelled him for good. Would we still be friends if I hadn’t fucked up so badly back then? Listening to Archer lament on the many great (physical) qualities of Zeta Tau president Annabeth Montgomery, a finger of doubt creeps in. It wasn’t just that I fucked up, was it? There was the fact that every time I looked at Evan, heat crept up my neck and my pants got uncomfortably tight. No other guy has ever had that effect on me. And that’s why I decided Evan was something better kept in the past. But do I still feel that way now? Would he still have that effect on me as an adult? Now I’ve had an actual girlfriend and I know I’m into women?
“Won’t Priestley come in here and find us?” Miles asks as Archer downs the last of his drink. He rolls off his beanbag and starts raiding the mini fridge for a beer.
“No, he hates this place,” he says, finding a Coors behind some moldy cheese. “He’s been trying to get it torn down since he became president.” Archer cracks the beer open and takes a loud swig. “At least when Nathan’s president, we won’t have to worry about that.”
I’m glad it’s dark in here so no one can see how uncomfortable I am.
“Why did you guys vote for him?” Miles asks.
“He’s not that bad.” Archer shrugs, a grin spreading across his face. “Plus, his dad’s richer than God and he likes doing all the shit no one else wants to do.” He looks at me. “Your dad’s probably the only person who can match the Rosenthal family money.”
“He’s not my dad,” I say, my voice coming out smaller than I’d intended.
Archer just shrugs as he takes a joint from the pocket of his chinos and lights up. “Stepdad, same thing.”
Say something, anything.
“I don’t even know if I’m going to go for president next year,” I say finally, my voice sounding stronger than it did a second ago. “I like being the VP. I’d probably be terrible at it, anyway.” Plus, I have way too much on my plate already.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Ben says.
